One of Your Own: the 100th Hunger Games OPEN SYOT
by Myths and me
Summary: "And finally, as a reminder that it wasn't an easy choice for a parent to send their child off to war, the reaping bowls will be made up of mothers with daughters and fathers with sons. The parent pulled out of the bowl has to choose one of their children of their own gender to enter into the arena, regardless of age. This child will represent their district in this year's Games."
1. Prologue

**Prologue: A Victory and a Reveal**

_How am I going to get myself back home?  
__We are the last people standing  
At the end of the night  
We are the greatest pretenders  
In the cold morning light  
-Bastille, Get Home._

**Archie**** Hewlett [1****6****]  
District 3 Male **

Two cannons boom in the distance. Archie' eyes fly open, his breathing speeds up, and despite the fear that courses through him, there's excitement too: he's one more dead tribute from being able to go home. He wrinkles his nose as soon as that thought comes to his mind, pushing it away as shame fills him.

Whatever Career boy he's up about is also someone's family. He's someone's son, maybe a brother, maybe an uncle, a good friend… he's something to someone and Archie can't just have a blatant disregard for that. He knows that there are people back home in District Three waiting for him, and he's sure that there's a ton more waiting for the arrival of whatever Career boy isn't dead yet. Of course, there's also two more families mourning and Archie can't believe that he was actually _excited _to know that people were dead.

It makes him feel disgusting.

But then, he supposes that he is. Or that he will be. There's two of them left now, and Archie knows that he has to kill to be the one left standing. It goes against everything he believes but he can't just sit everything out and wait for the numbers to dwindle like he's been doing for the past few weeks; the Gamemakers will spur him into action soon, and if he wants to see his parents and his little sisters again then it's going to have to end with a cannon boom that isn't his.

He sits up, shuffling around to grab his backpack stuffed at the bottom of his sleeping bag. He takes a moment to go through it, taking out the packets of dried fruit he's been saving. The thing about the Careers is that, unless it's something useful, they tend to leave the supplies with the bodies of those that they killed. They have more than enough back at the cornucopia, and they assume that it'll just be picked up with the body. But three times now, Archie has stumbled upon their kills and so he's ended up with a decent amount of provisions. He's been saving the packets of dried fruit, though, even though he wasn't sure what for at the times that he forced himself not to open them, finding something else instead.

He figures now is the best time of any; either he dies with a stomach full of his favourite snack, or it's his victory breakfast.

Once he's finished eating, Archie starts to pack his things up. There's a horrible feeling of dread in his stomach—which doesn't really mix well with the fruit. It's terrifying to think that he's _so _close to both going home and dying. He's made it this far, even if everyone had pegged him a bloodbath. He's not sure how, but he's still here, and surely that counts for something even if he is up against a Career.

Bundled up, he takes a step outside of the cave for the first time in a few days. His breath fogs out in front of him, and the sun reflecting off of the snow makes his eyes hurt. Still, he wants to get away from here, towards the one tribute remaining if he can. Archie doesn't even want to think about what the Gamemakers will send their way to get them together. Nothing to kill them of course; the Capitol wants to see the two of them duke it out themselves, but that doesn't mean that in the event that he does actually win this, he wants to have more nightmares. It's been hard enough falling asleep already and whilst he knows that what might happen in the next couple of hours will scar him even deeper, he tries not to dwell on it as he trudges across the snowy mountain.

Instead he thinks about home. About his mom and his dad and Marie, Ada and Grace. The five of them probably huddled around the TV at this moment. He thinks about his mom's hugs, his dad's laugh, Marie's curiosity, Ada's cleverness and Grace's kindness. How excited they'll be if he steps off that train once more.

The final eight interview went well, he knows that much. The warm stew that Stylus, his mentor, had sent down that night came with a note he still has in his pocket. He stops in the snow, nudging the card out.

_Your family did well. They want you home. Grace says she's got something to show you when you return. Do your best to live and see it – S._

There are tears in his eyes when he reads over those words, and he inhales slowly as not to break down there and then. But even if he did, it wouldn't be for long. Something slams into his side, sobering him up as he lands hard on the ground and turns to see the One boy, half of his face covered in blood as he stares down at Archie.

Archie watches as the card is whisked away by a gust of wind, letting out a pained cry as he watches it go.

"I want to make this last," the One boy laughs, using one hand to grip Archie's chin and force him to look at him. "You don't deserve to be in this spot, and I want my victory to be memorable. I thought it would be by killing Trout and Cadmus but you complicated it all."

Trying to push the boy off, Archie whimpers slightly as the tip of the boy's knife presses against his neck. "I haven't done anything," he gasps. "If you're going to kill me just do it."

The One boy tilts his head to the side. "Looks like you're shit out of luck, Three."

"Mom, Dad, Ada, Marie, Grace…" Archie manages to choke out. "D-don't watch."

And what happens next is a blur. He doesn't know how he gets his dagger, or how he manages to free his arm from underneath the One boy, but somehow it ends with his dagger in the boy's side and the pressure on Archie's neck releasing. The boy tips off of him, and Archie gulps in as much air of he can, rolling onto his front before struggling on to his feet.

Something trickles down his neck as he stands up, a stinging sensation kicking in as he realise that the boy nicked his neck. He holds a hand there to try and stop the bleeding, bending down to pick up the very knife that injured him.

To his left, the boy stands up too, his hand pressed into his side as he tries his best to straighten up. "You're going to pay for that," the boy says, and there's a grin on his face that unsettles Archie.

But the boy tries to straighten up too quickly given that there's a knife in his side, and a flash of pain crosses his face as he tilts and tries to keep his balance. Archie tries to warn the boy as takes one too many steps backwards, but the boy either doesn't listen or doesn't hear.

It all happens in slow motion; Archie lunges forward, arm outstretched to try and grab the boy's hand as he starts to windmill. Even in the moment Archie realises that it is a little bizarre, but it's the only thing he can will his body into doing at that moment. But he's too late, he doesn't manage to grab it and the boy falls backwards, down a steep drop.

The dried fruit makes a reappearance when Archie hears the thud of the boy's body hitting small shelves of rock on the way down.

The last cannon booms. Archie screams into the snow.

"Congratulations to the Victor of the 99th annual Hunger Games, Archie Hewlett!"

Archie is in no state to register the announcement, and it's not until he's being lifted into the hovercraft that he actually realises that he's going home. That he'll see his family again.

His last thought as the people aboard the hovercraft sedate him is that he can't wait to see what Grace has made him.

* * *

Archie doesn't speak much any more.

He's thankful for his family, for them putting up with him as he tries to navigate this new life, but it's hard for all of them. There are many nights that he wakes up screaming and scares his sisters, there are times that he looks at Ada and all he can see is that tiny District Seven girl who's corpse he stumbled upon a few minutes after the Careers had killed her, and there are days that he doesn't come out of his room.

The first time that he tried to get drunk and forget, his mom slapped him hard across the face and told him to get out until he sobered up. He had, and when he'd come back the next morning after sleeping in a bush in the back garden, she'd hugged him fiercely and told him that she'd only done it because she loves him.

Archie he believes that's true with his whole heart.

He sees a therapist before and after the Victory Tour, someone who helps him with his problems. Someone that helps him get closer to the Archie he was before. He'll never be the same, he knows that, but it's nice to be able to play games with his sisters in their new back garden without having a meltdown because the temperature drops and suddenly he thinks that he's back in the arena.

He doesn't speak much, but he tries his best to communicate with his parents. It's hard to admit when he's having a bad day, but he does it anyway. And his dad will hug him so tightly that he can't breathe and his mom will make him soup and sit with him for as long as he wants. Both of them will make sure that the girls don't bother him too much that day, and that he's on his way to being okay.

Archie's lucky, so lucky, he knows that. Not everyone coming back from the arena has anyone to support them, but Archie has won the jackpot.

But tonight is the announcement for the Quarter Quell, and the soup nor the hugs, nor the company is making him feel better. Grace stretching her legs onto his lap, as the other two play card games in front of the fire. He resists the urge to push them off, instead guiding his gaze up to the welcome home banner hanging up above the TV. She had made herself, apparently the night that he had been reaped. It had been what she wanted to show him; that she'd believed in him from the beginning.

"You won't have to go in again, will you?" Grace quietly from beside him.

He shakes his head. "They've already done that one," he says. "I'll be okay. Don't worry."

"You don't look okay," Grace's voice is soft. "You look scared."

"I-I am," Archie nods. "I-whatever happens tonight I have to—"

"He has to mentor it, Grace," Marie cuts in. Archie nods. "So if it's bad then he'll…" She trails off, not wanting to finish her sentence. Archie feels awful; if it's bad, then he'll get worse after he comes home. He knows that's what she meant.

Grace looks momentarily terrified. "Arch… what if _we _have to go in?! Me and Marie and Ada? What if—"

"That's _not_ going to happen!" Archie's shout sounds more harsh than he intended it to be. He doesn't even intend to shout, but the thought of his sisters in that arena sends a jolt of fear through him that doesn't even equate to what he felt in the arena. "Don't say things like that Grace! Why would you even bring that up?!"

There's a shocked silence in the room, Ada and Marie staring up at the pair of them with their mouths slightly open. Grace's eyes fill with tears, her bottom lip trembles, and she bursts into tears before swinging her legs from Archie's lap and running out of the room.

"What happened?" Their mom enters the room, arms crossed over her chest. She looks towards Marie and Ada on the floor. "Were you teasing her again? I've told you so many time that you shouldn't—"

"It's my fault, Mom," Archie admits staring down at his lap. "I shouted at her."

"Why?"

Ada glances towards him, and then to their mom, speaking for him. "She asked what would happen if the Quell twist was us going in. Arch wasn't trying to be mean, he's just worried."

Their mom sighs. "We'll speak about this later, alright, Archie? I'll go get Grace. It'll be starting soon, anyway."

Archie nods, their dad joining them shortly after she leaves again. When his mother comes back down, Grace murmuring a tearful apology before settling down on his lap, the TV flickers on and Archie's stomach drops. He grips Grace a tighter than normal, her suggestion from earlier at the front of his mind.

His breathing speeds up as the previous Quells are read out, and the reveal gets closer. He has the benefit of knowing that the Victors have already been forced back into the arena, that he himself is safe, but he's worried that his family isn't.

"And finally, as a reminder that it wasn't an easy choice for a parent to send their child off to war, the reaping bowls will be made up of mothers with daughters and fathers with sons. The parent pulled out of the bowl has to choose one of their children of their own gender to enter into the arena, regardless of age. This child will represent their district in this year's Games."

The TV flickers off, and Archie's family is not safe. He is, and his father won't have a name in the bowl, but his mom will, and what are they supposed to do if it's her name and she has to choose between the girls?

Grace is eight, Ada is ten and Marie turned twelve last week. None of them would stand a chance in an arena, especially with the chance of tributes that are decades older than them. Besides, who is their mom supposed to choose? Marie because she's the oldest? Grace because she'll undoubtedly get more sponsors with her innocence? Ada because she's the smartest?

_Fuck, _Archie thinks, _fuckfuckfuckfuck._

How is he supposed to be okay with mentoring this?

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed this Quell reveal, as well as insight into the latest Victor, Archie! **

**So, a few things I just want to clarify/inform you of in regards to this twist:**

**If a family has four daughters and no sons, only the name of the mother will be in the reaping bowls. Same as if a family has only sons, only the father's name will be in the bowl.**

**There is no age limit. If a 70 year old parent is pulled, they can choose their 50 year old "kid" to go into the games. I'd like to see some diversity, but it's not a huge issue if most tributes end up being a little older.**

**There are no volunteers; whatever child is picked is the child that goes in. **

**In regards to tesserae, anyone eligible (so, daughters with alive mothers and sons with alive fathers) are allowed to take tesserae. The combined total of the daughters tesserae will be how many time their mother's name is in, and likewise for fathers and their sons. So, if a family of seven, three sons and two daughters, had their children take out tesserae for all seven of them, the father's name would be in 21 times, and the mother's 14. I hope that makes sense! **

**If you have any other questions, please PM me!**

**Also, a quick disclaimer. I am currently a third year university student in the UK. As such I am currently undertaking a project called a dissertation which a 10,000 word essay ****(for my course, at least, I know it differs... my housemate's is only 5,000 but due much earlier) ****on a subject of our choice. This is currently eating up a lot of my time, along with other deadlines I have. Because of this, at times, updates could slow down. I'm undertaking this as a way to be able to take a break from writing my dissertation and other essays, yet still be productive. So, updates might be slow but I will try to keep you updated on my profile if there's a particular time that I know I won't be able to get a chapter out for a while. My dissertation and uni work will always be my priority.**

**Thanks for reading, and I hope to see you submitting a tribute! :)**

**-Myths and me**


	2. District Ten reaping

**Chapter One: District Ten Reaping**

_All I am  
A child with promises  
All I have  
Are miles full of promises of home  
-Enya, Evacuee._

**Verona Bowman [8]**

Her mama's hands running through Verona's hair is almost enough to send her right back to sleep as she curls up next to her mama on the bed. She doesn't want to fall asleep again; the rooster will be crowing soon anyway, but that small window of time is enough for her bad dreams to come back. She regrets hanging around with the older kids now that she knows they weren't exaggerating about how scary their stories are.

"Mama?" She whispers, as not to wake anyone else up. "Are you sure there's no dragons here? Brook said he was telling the truth that they're in Ten, and he's never lied before."

"I'm sure, honey," her mama says softly. "Papa kicked all of the dragons out of District Ten long before you were born."

"What if he missed one?"

"He wouldn't have," she says, and Verona is about to ask how her mama could know when she speaks again. "How about we go for a walk after the reaping and look for any that you think are left? If we find any, Papa can take care of them, and then you know that you're safe."

"Yes please." Verona presses herself closer to her mama's side. "Can all of us go? Even June?"

"I don't see why not." her mother smiles.

Verona turns her head, glancing at the small cradle in the corner of the room. "It'll be her first family walk," she says as she turns back to face her mama. "But what if we do find a dragon? Do you think she's scared of them too?"

Her mother shrugs. "I don't know, Verona," she says. "We'll have to ask her when she's older."

"I hope she's not."

"Me too, honey."

They fall silent, but it's shortlived when the rooster starts to crow and everybody starts stirring. June starts to cry at the sudden amount of noise, and their Papa starts to herd them all out of the room to go and get breakfast and allow June to settle down a little. Elowen whines to be picked up, and so Verona holds her on her hip, the younger girl leaning her head on Verona's shoulder.

She refuses to be put down and so Verona finds herself sitting with Elowen on her lap, feeding her spoonfuls of cereal before she can actually feed herself. Other workers trickle in and out of the kitchen, sometimes talking to them but mostly just keeping to themselves. Verona knows that it's Reaping Day, but she doesn't quite know what that means. Everybody's worried, though, even her own mama and papa. She remembers the crying in the town square after they had to watch an announcement. It had been weird to see so many adults crying.

Last year Doe Ackerman's older brother got picked, and Doe didn't stop crying for ages either. She missed three months of school and even when she came back, she wasn't the Doe that Verona knew. She was sad all the time, even when Verona was trying to cheer her up. Doe says that her brother has to stay in the ground now, that she'll never see him again. Verona doesn't know what she'd do if any of her siblings had to stay in the ground. Their teacher told everyone that nobody had nothing to worry about this year, but if it happened to Doe's brother...

"June's sleeping again," their mama says as she enters the kitchen. "So you guys are going to have to be quiet when you go back into the room, okay? I've picked up your outfits, and you're not to get them dirty," she looks pointedly towards Verona's older brother Phoenix. "Especially you, Phoenix."

"I won't." he holds up his hands.

"Good," she smiles. "Now we've gotta start speeding up, alright? We'll have to leave soon if we want to get there on time. Girls, I'll do your hair once you're dressed. Verona, can you help me out by getting Elowen ready?"

"Yep!"

"And Phoenix, can you get Alder ready for me?"

"Mhm."

They all do as they're told, being as quiet as they can when they enter and leave the bedroom. Verona carries Elowen to the bathroom, waiting outside for a while until it's free again, and helps her younger sister get dressed. She's barely wrestled Elowen into her dress before someone is knocking on the door, so she speeds up and quickly pulls hers on.

Most of the time Verona likes living on the farm with all of the other farmhands but sometimes it can get annoying. Like when there's queues for the bathrooms, or June, Alder or Elowen is having a hard night and keeps waking everyone up because they all sleep in the same room together. It's also no fun to sleep on mattresses on the floor, but their mama and papa say that they can't afford to live anywhere else. Besides, it's easier to live where they work.

A disgruntled worker pushes their way into the bathroom once Verona unlocks it, and she joins her mama back in the bedroom to get her hair done.

"What do you want?" Her mama asks quietly. "Braids or pigtails?"

Verona shrugs. "You choose."

She ends up with her hair pulled into two braids, twirling around in the middle of the room whilst she waits for her mama to finish up with Ophelia and Elowen's hair. The skirt of her dress puffs out, but her papa isn't happy with her when she gets so dizzy she falls over and almost wakes up June.

"Wait outside," he tells her, and she pouts and heads out into the hallway. Phoenix joins her not long later, huffing as he sits down next to her.

"Do you want to play chess with me when we get home?" He asks.

"Sure." Verona nods.

They talk and play with a few of Phoenix's matchbox cars before the reaping horn sounds. Verona wonders who is going to get picked today, and whether they'll have to stay in the ground just like Doe Ackerman's brother. Maybe that's why most of them cry when their name is picked. Verona can't imagine that it's much fun having to stay there without anyone with you.

"Come on guys, let's go." Their mama leaves the room, June in her arms, with their papa and the other three trailing behind. Phoenix and Verona get to their feet, and Phoenix grabs Alder whilst Verona carries Elowen. It makes things a lot easier when they're walking places, and that way the younger ones don't get lost. Ophelia skips along beside Verona, and the family, along with the other farmhands, make their way to the town square.

"We have to get signed in, okay?" Their mama says as they reach the booths and Verona frowns.

"We didn't have to last year," she says. Her mama takes her hand.

"I know, darling, but you do this year. It doesn't hurt."

Verona knows better than to argue, so they file into line. They even prick June's finger, which Verona thinks is unfair, but her mama clamps a hand over her mouth when she starts to protest. Once they're all signed in, they have to separate from the boys which Verona decides is a stupid idea since Phoenix is her best friend and the reapings are always boring anyway. She loves all of her sisters of course, but they're not as fun to mess around with.

She ends up making weird faces at baby June to make her smile as they're waiting around. The square gets more and more packed, and where there would usually be children, Verona can see people of all ages. It's weird, but she assumes that it has something to do with the announcement they had to watch a few months ago. She hadn't actually listened to what it was but she knows that it was a rule that changed the Game for that year.

Eventually, when thy're packed so tightly into the square that Verona can barely breathe with the amount of people behind her, the mayor steps onto the stage and starts to read. Verona doesn't listen, too busy trying to spot her papa and Alder and Phoenix on the other side of the aisle. But, when she turns back, the mayor has been replaced with the same funny looking lady that was here last year. The one that read out Doe Ackerman's brother's name.

"Let's start with the girls!" She exclaims, clapping happily as she walks over to the bowl on her left. "Demeter Bowman!"

At that, her mama gasps, and heads turn to her. Verona looks around confused, moving closer to her mama as people start to whisper and look around. When Verona looks up, her mama is crying, and the woman on stage sighs.

"Demeter Bowman?" She calls out. "Will you _please _come up here with your daughters?"

"We have to go," their mama inhales sharply, wiping her cheeks. "Come on."

"But why?" Ophelia asks as they make their way into the aisle. She starts to cry as the peacekeepers surround them. Verona grips Elowen tightly in one arm, and holds her mama's skirt in the other, eyes wide as they make their way to the stage.

"We just have to," their mama says. "Hurry up."

"Oh what lovely girls you have here!" The escort coos as they reach the top of the stairs. Verona shies away from her as she tries to go for a hug. "What are their names and how old are they?"

"Um," her mama is still crying, her voice shaking as she points to each of them in turn. "June is just under a month old, Elowen is three, Ophelia is six and Verona is eight."

"And which girl do you choose?" The escort seems almost happy when she asks that question, but Verona can tell from the angry shouts in the crowd that it isn't a nice question.

Why does her mama have to choose one of them? Is it for the Hunger Games?

"Don't make me choose," her mama begs. "Please. They're just babies!"

There's movement behind them, and one of the peacekeepers moves forward and her mama lets out a loud sob as there's a gun pressed to her head. Verona starts to cry then, wanting nothing more than to go back home. To be safe in her mama's arms. She doesn't know what's going on, but she's so so scared.

"If you don't choose then you will be removed from the equation and we will have to do it for you," the lads says. "I'm sorry, but that's how it is."

Her mama is quiet for a moment. "V-Verona," she whimpers. "I choose Verona."

And suddenly the woman is bending down and wrapping an arm around Verona's shoulders, pulling her away from her mama and her sisters. Verona starts to wail, joining in the cries of the others as the woman holds her back and her family is marched off stage. She struggles against the woman, calling out for her mother, and there's a moment where she's free, and she scrambling across the stage but one of the women seated to the side grabs her and holds her tight.

"It's okay," the woman shushes her, running a hand over her hair just like her mama had done this morning. "It's okay."

They both know that it's not.

And vaguely Verona can hear the escort lady moving on, but she doesn't look up from where she buries her face in the shoulder of the woman.

The woman lets go eventually, and Verona is forced to shake the hand of a man who can't be much older than her papa. Will he be playing the game with her? How is she supposed to win if there are people like him playing? Whatever game they have to play, adults are almost always far better.

When she's being pushed into the Justice Building Verona decides that dragons don't scare her anymore. Not as much as what just happened.

_For my prayer has always been love  
What did I do to deserve this now?  
How did this happen?  
-Sufjan Stevens, Drawn to the Blood._

**Ellwood Skinner [37]**

He hasn't been as nervous for a reaping in years.

Not that he had much time left to be as nonchalant about it as he could since Benji turns twelve in time for next years', but he's aware of how high stakes this one is. Both of his sons are eligible, and so is he. Paloma, his wife is too. The entire family is. And, if the odds really aren't in their favour and Paloma's mother's name gets drawn alongside Ellwood's father's, it has the potential to ruin this family. Not to mention if his name gets pulled. How is he supposed to choose between his boys? How is he supposed to send Benji or Colter off to the Hunger Games and still sleep at night? How is he supposed to watch them get slaughtered knowing that it's his fault?

And in the unlikely event that his boy does come back, how is he supposed to look him in the eye? How is he supposed to hug him and welcome him back knowing that he sent him off to that arena? That he deemed his brother's life higher than his? The questions make him sick, and he abruptly stands up from the breakfast table, ignoring Paloma and his boys' calls.

Locking the bathroom door, Ellwood splashes water on his face and tries to calm himself down. His name won't be chosen; the extra shifts he'd worked the past few months meant that the boys didn't have to take tesserae. Ellwood's name was in twice, and that was little compared to some of his coworkers. He'll be fine. He just needs to stop worrying.

"Ell, are you okay?" Paloma knocks on the door as he's patting his face dry.

"I'm fine," he says, opening the door. He pulls his wife close. "I just... I got into a real dark spot there. I couldn't stop thinking about it. I don't know how I'd even choose."

Paloma presses her lips together. "You won't have to," she says firmly. "And even if you did, nobody would blame you. Both Benji and Colt know what could happen today and they know that you love them both despite what might happen."

Ellwood nods taking a deep breath. "Benji told me yesterday to choose him," he says. "And I've never hated the Capitol more."

His wife stands on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. "It'll be okay," she says. "You won't have to choose."

And Ellwood wishes that he could say that he's comforted, but he's not really. Still, he takes a deep breath and re-enters the kitchen where Colter greets him with a hug.

"It's okay, Dad," he says. "My teacher says none of us have anything to worry about."

"And she's right," he smiles, trying to put on a brave face. "Now which one of you is going to help me with the washing up, huh?"

"Not me!" They both yell in union, and attempt to run. Ellwood chases after them, wrapping his arms around Benji's waist. He picks him up, and Colter laughs as his brother is pulled back towards the kitchen.

"Dad you're so unfair," Benji pouts as soon as he's put down, turning to the sink. "I did it last night."

"Well then Colt will do it tonight and tomorrow morning," Ellwood shrugs, running the hot water. "Solved."

Benji huffs, but he doesn't argue further which Ellwood revels in. He'd known that the tween years were going to be hard, knows what he was like at that age, but he swears that his son is way worse than he used to be. Sure, Ellwood would talk back a little every now and then, and was awful at remembering to tell his parents that he wouldn't be home for dinner, but he doesn't remember getting into full blown arguments with his parents like Benji has been doing recently. Sure, he might have done the washing up last night but not without the threat of not being able to hang out with his friends for a week.

Parenting has turned out to be a lot rouger than Ellwood and Paloma anticipates but he thinks that they're doing a pretty decent job. Despite his recent attitude problems, Benji is a pretty good kid and so is Colter. Both of them are kind, both of them are thoughtful, and even though they may have this to look forward to when Colter reaches this age, a little pre teenage angst isn't necessarily a bad thing.

As soon as the washing up is done, he sets about getting ready for the reaping. Paloma looks stunning in a new dress, and both of the boys are dashing in their shirts and ties. Ellwood is the last to get ready, being put in charge of making sure that the boys' hair is fixed, but he manages it on time and they end up leaving the house before the reaping horn has sounded. He counts that as somewhat of a win since they're usually late.

Ellwood's father joins them on the way there, joking around with Benji and Colter. Some of his jokes even make Ellwood and Paloma smile as they walk, something that both of them appreciate. It feels slightly inappropriate to be laughing when there are people around them crying and tiny children that are one slip away from death, but Ellwood has already let himself be overwhelmed this morning and if there's anything that can take his mind off this he's not going to complain. It's definitely a welcome distraction.

Colter flags when they get to the booths, refusing to step forward and get his finger pricked. Ellwood ushers his father and Benji through, taking Colter off to the side where he pulls his son into a tight hug.

"Does it hurt?" Colter asks once they pull away, looking over his shoulder.

"No," Ellwood shakes his head. "It's just a little prick, that's all."

"How do you know?"

"I had to have it done when I was a kid too."

"But that was years ago! You probably don't even remember!"

"Mhm," he nods. "But surely I'd remember if it was that painful, huh? I promise you that it doesn't hurt, kiddo. The best thing to do is get it over and done with."

Colter's lip trembles as he looks towards the booths. "Will you hold my hand?"

"Sure I will."

That seems to be enough to get Colter moving towards the booths, but Paloma stays behind to wait for her mother. She hugs Ellwood, giving his a good luck and a quick kiss. He returns the favours, and they agree to meet back in this spot once the reaping is over.

He does as he promises, and holds Colter's hand whilst both of them get their fingers pricked. It takes a while to locate Ellwood's father and Benji within the crowd, but they manage it and greet each other with hugs. The tension in the air is almost unbearable as the mayor takes to the stage, and Colter grips Ellwood's hand so tight that it hurts.

"Dad?" He asks, when the Treaty of Treason is being read out.

"Yeah, buddy?"

"I love you."

"I love you too. More than you'll ever know."

He tenses as the escort takes to the stage, and plays a video that Ellwood has seen more times that he wants to. Once that's done, she decides that she doesn't want to waste any time and looks almost giddy as she makes her way to the women's bowl. It makes Ellwood sick that she's taking such delight in this; that it was even a Quell idea to begin with. It's the opposite of entertaining, especially as Demeter Bowman makes her way up to the stage with a baby in her arms and two young girls following her, one of the holding a toddler.

In front of them, a man starts to cry, another toddler in his arms and a boy around Benji's age at his side. He imagines that it's the other half of the family up on that stage, and Ellwood's heart sinks.

"Dad, Verona's in my class. She's my friend," Colter says numbly as the mother on stage introduces her oldest girl. "B-but Ms. Stephens said we had nothing to worry about," he turns to Ellwood, eyes wide. "_You _said she was right. Why did you both lie?"

Ellwood doesn't have an answer to that, can't think of anything that would make this better, so he just squeezes Colter's shoulder in what he hopes is a reassuring way. Around them disgruntles cries ring out as Demeter's please ring out across the district. He himself cries out when a gun is trained on the woman's head, and he has to hold back the tears when Verona is left on stage, eventually ending up in the arms of Nora, one of this years' mentors.

He gathers his wits about him as the escort heads over to the men's bowl.

And he's glad that he does, because it's his father's name that echoes out. He somehow manages to keep a clear head when his boys start screaming, having to be held back by some of those around him. Linking arms with his father, he helps him up to the stage, staring out across the sea of citizens when it finally kicks in.

He, Horace Skinner's only son, is going into the Hunger Games.

He supposes that there's one small mercy; at least his father didn't have to pick like Demeter did. Of course Ellwood wouldn't have blamed him if he'd been the one chosen, but it makes him feel a little better that his father doesn't have to live with so much guilt. He needs to remind himself to tell his father that not to blame himself during the visits.

Staring out across the district as the reality and the terror finally sink in, Ellwood realises what a predicament he's got himself into. He turns to the sobbing girl beside him, nudged towards him gently by Nora, and gently shakes her hand.

He doesn't want to think it, but he can't stop himself as the pair of them are led into the Justice Building: for him to get home to his boys she has to die.

* * *

**This chapter is brought to you by the fact that I didn't have lectures today and also, considering it's 2AM ish, chronic insomnia! **

**I didn't intend to get this out so fast, but it just kind of happened. I can't promise that the next chapters will come out this fast (in fact I would bet a lot a lot of money that they won't) but I'm going to try and get as many as I can out before I start getting stupidly busy in the next few months. **

**Anyway, I hope that you enjoyed this chapter and I would love for anyone reading to let me know what they think of both Verona and Ellwood. Also, if anyone wants to submit a tribute or three that would be great also!**

**Any mistakes are brought to you by the fact that it's 2AM and my proof reading skills aren't at their peak right now. I'll read it over with fresh eyes at some point tomorrow and fix anything I find, but please don't be rude if there's any typos!**

**Thanks a lot for reading, I appreciate it! :)**

**-Myths and me **


	3. District Eight Reaping

**Chapter Two: District Eight Reaping**

_So love me Mother  
And love me Father  
And love my sister as well  
-Of Monsters and Men, Sloom._

**Enya O'Connell [10]**

Enya hadn't expected her parents to still be in the house when she woke up, especially given that it was Reaping Day, but she's pleasantly surprised when they greet her as she pads barefoot into the kitchen. Neither of them look up from what they're doing, but they acknowledge her with quiet mumbles and that's enough, she guesses. It's more than she usually gets if she manages to catch them before they leave for work.

She fries an egg and makes some toast before settling down at the breakfast table, where her parents are still working. She doesn't understand how they always have so much to do; sure, her mother is the mayor, but they _never_ seem to have any free time. They work whilst they're eating breakfast, then they disappear for the day, and they don't come back until after Enya's asleep because something always holds them up at the office.

Sometimes she doesn't see them for days on end, unless it's on the stupid banners that her mom has hung up around the district. Sometimes Enya wonders if it's because she misbehaves so often. She been getting better as of late, but sometimes the only way to see her mom is to have her tutor call her home because Enya is being a brat. It's not something that she enjoys doing.

She knows that her parents love her, but sometimes it's hard to remember that in the periods where they barely even acknowledge her presence.

Enya settles down at the table as soon as she's done preparing her meal. She sits beside her dad, opposite from her mom and gets halfway through her breakfast before she tries to attempt a conversation.

"Is Alanis—"

"Not now, Enya," her mom interrupts her almost immediately. She still doesn't look up. "We're working."

"But I was just asking if Alanis is—"

"I said not now," her mom finally looks up at this, gesturing to the notebooks and paper spread out across the table. "We're working." But then, eyes narrowed slightly. "What have you done to your chin?"

"I fell and scraped it," Enya answers. She pauses for a few seconds. "Last week."

Her mom reaches forward, hooking a finger under Enya's chin to look at the scab. "Oh, honey, why didn't you tell me?"

Enya shrugs. "You're always busy. I didn't think it was important."

Her mom tutts, opening her mouth to say something else just as the doorbell rings. Enya's scowls as her mom gets up and rushes to pull the door open, the sound of voices floating in from the foyer as she , Enya got the answer to the question she was trying to ask just a few minutes ago; Alanis was definitely coming over, and of course they could ditch their work for _her_.

She watches as her dad hurries to gather up all of the paper and rush out to greet her too, and Enya can't help the tide of jealousy that washes over her. Her grip tightens on her knife and fork and she tries to turn her attention back to her breakfast. But it's hard when all she can hear is her parents, Alanis and Alanis' boyfriend talking.

Eventually, she finishes her breakfast and gathers up the courage to enter the living room. No one even seems to notice her as she lingers in the doorway, too busy talking about adult stuff, and after a few minutes she just turns and leaves with tears burning her eyes. She takes the stairs two at a time and slams her bedroom door.

She doesn't know how long it is before there's a knock at her door, but she makes a point of not acknowledging it. Maybe if she starts ignoring them then they'll realise how much it hurts.

"Enya?" Her mom opens the door. There's a few beats of silence. "Are you crying?" Enya doesn't answer, turning away so that her back is to her mom. "What's the matter? You know that we have nothing to worry about today, right?"

"Who would you choose?" Enya blurts out. "If you had to? Me or Alanis?"

Her mom looks surprised at the question, stepping into the room. "I don't know, Enya," she says. "I couldn't choose."

"Would you choose me?" Enya asks again, turning to her mom as she raises her eyebrows. "If your name got picked today, would you choose me?"

"I'm not answering that," her mom says with a small sigh. "You know that I love you both equally."

"Then why do you only pay attention to Alanis?" Enya huffs, eyes watering again. "You didn't have time to talk to me this morning, but as soon as Alanis came over you dropped all of your work! You do it every time! The only time you ever talk to me is to tell me off!" She lets out a quiet sob, turning away to face the wall. "Is it because I'm so naughty you don't want to be around me anymore?"

"God—Enya, no," Her mom crosses the room, pulling her into a hug. "It's not that, I promise."

"Then what is it? Have I done something wrong?"

"No. You haven't," her mom sighs. "Things will get better after the elections, I promise. We won't be as busy."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Enya pulls away, sitting up and wiping her eyes. "Can we do something this afternoon? After the reaping."

Her mom nods. "Anything you want."

"Can we go for ice cream? Just me and you?"

Her mom nods, and Enya smiles. Of course, after this afternoon it'll more than likely go right back to the way it's been but maybe her mom will make a _little_ bit more of an effort now that she knows. At least until the elections are over.

"You need to get ready," her mom says. "We have to be there early, remember?"

"I'm not going to forget," Enya rolls her eyes. "We do this every year."

Her mom laughs at that, but takes her leave, and Enya sets about getting ready. She pulls on the dress that she had picked out last night, and brushes out her hair. She still doesn't talk to Alanis when she finally heads downstairs, but it's not as if the sisters have ever gotten along well; the fifteen year age gap was partially to blame for that, but it's more that they don't see each other anymore.

Hell, Enya didn't meet her new nephew for a month after her was born; her parents would visit before they came home from work, and Alanis never invites Enya over by herself.

They leave as a family, though, Enya holding her mom's hand as they make their way to the square. The streets are desolate, people savouring what could be their last moments together as a family. It means that waiting in the square is boring, and Enya finds herself spending most of the time up on the stage, messing about with their new escort who introduces herself as Ysolda.

She's forced to join her sister when the reaping horn sounds and the crowds eventually begin to gather, but it's not as much fun as standing on the stage was. Alanis is grown up and boring, and all she does is talk about baby Rocco. Enya loves her nephew but she doesn't want to listen to her sister gush over him for another second. Alanis never listens to Enya talk about her books or new dolls, and so she doesn't see why she should be forced to listen to her sister's ramblings. Rocco's a baby. Babies are cute. Enya gets it.

The square is filled to the brim by the time that the reaping gets underway. Enya notices all of the Community Home kids behind the rope, gleeful that for one year they're safe. Even if her parents go back to ignoring her after today, Enya at least knows that she's luckier than they are. At least she has parents.

Alanis's elbow in Enya's side pulls her attention away from them.

"Stop staring," she whispers as their mom reads out the Treaty of Treason and the List of Victors. "What has Mom told you about judging people?"

Enya elbows her sister back, hard. "I wasn't judging them," she hisses. "I was just _looking._"

"Stop acting like a child."

"I _am _a child. What's your excuse?"

"Girls, stop," their father's voice is stern as he glances over at them. "You're twenty-five, Alanis. Act like it."

Alanis scowls as Enya smiles, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet as she watches Ysolda walk over to the girl's bowl. Around Enya, people hold their breath, watching carefully as Ysolda picks out a slip, unfolds it and frowns.

She looks over her shoulder, and then back to the slip. Beside Enya, Alanis stiffens.

"Um. Millicent O'Connell," Ysolda announces. Enya's mouth falls open. _No!_ "Please come up to the stage..."

Her mom stands from her seat, making her way over to the microphone. Her face is stony, jaw clenched. Alanis takes Enya's hand after passing Rocco off to their father.

Standing on the stage isn't as fun, now, Enya thinks as she goes numb, staring out across the crowd.

There's a mixture of emotions; some people have their hands clamped over their mouths, others are laughing. Enya catches the eye of one man who holds up his middle finger. She'd always thought that her mom was a popular mayor, but now she's wondering whether or not that's true. There are way too many people who look _happy _about this. About her mom sending one of them off to be killed.

Enya looks up to Alanis. Maybe she doesn't hate her that much.

"Names and ages?" Ysolda asks, even though most people already know.

"Enya's ten and Alanis is twenty-five." Her mom's voice shakes, and Enya clenches her fists at her side. She's never seen her mom cry before, but as she glances upwards, swallowing thickly, she can see tears running down her mom's face.

"And who do you choose to represent District Eight in this year's Hunger Games?"

She feels as if she's about to throw up.

"Enya."

Beside her, Alanis shrieks, and there's outrage in the crowd as well. They had been sure it would be Alanis; older, more capable. Enya had thought that too, not through selfishness but because her sister has so much more potential. Enya is _ten. _

She doesn't know when she starts to cry, but there's warm tears dripping down her cheek as the reality starts to set in. Their father had appeared at some point, dragging Alanis away as her sister screams at their mom.

Enya turns to her, making eye contact with the woman who just condemned her to death.

"I thought you loved me, Mom?" Enya whimpers. "I thought things were supposed to get better?"

Her mom says nothing as she descends the steps, head hung low.

_Do I look lonely?  
I see the shadows on my face  
People have told me I don't look the same  
-Panic! At the Disco, Impossible Year._

**Henry Ellis [46]**

_"Dad! Joseph won't get out of my room!"_

The shrill cry jolts him out of sleep and he groans, running a hand over his face as he tries to calm himself down. His daughter isn't in danger, her brother is just being annoying; he doesn't need to be scared. He flops down against the pillows, once he's managed to lower his heart rate, and stares up at the ceiling as his kids continue to argue.

It has been the same deal every day this week. Why can't they just let him sleep in peace?

When the arguing gets too much, he forces himself out of bed. He's one step out of the door when his youngest begins to wail. Henry takes a deep breath, pushing past his two oldest in the corridor.

"Good going, Joe, you woke up Sarah!"

"It wasn't me! _You're _the one who was shouting!"

Henry's eyes nearly roll back into his head as they continue bickering, but he elects to ignore it as he enters Sarah's room and gathers his toddler into his arms. She stops crying almost as soon as his oldest two quieten down, and he rocks her in his arms until she falls back to sleep. It's not even light out, but thankfully it's not the middle of the night when he glances at the clock once Sarah's tucked back in.

Not that six in the morning is really any better.

He leaves her door ajar when he finally leaves and his oldest two are nowhere to be seen. His first stop is in Esther's room, flicking on her light as she squirms under her covers and pulls them over her face.

"Dad, I'm trying to get back to sleep!" She groans.

"You've woken everyone else up," he says. "Sarah managed to get back to sleep, but me? I'm up now, and as you're the one who woke me up, I think it's only fair that you get up, too."

Esther sits up, glaring at him. "You're so mean," and if looks could kill, Henry would definitely be six feet under right now. "It's six in the morning! I'm tired!"

"Yeah. I am, too. And Sarah," Henry points out. "But maybe you should have thought about that before you decided to shout the house down."

"It's Joe's fault!" She protests. "He was in my room! Why aren't you punishing him?!"

"He's not getting away scot free, Esther," he says, leaning against the doorframe. "Now hurry up and get out of bed. I want the bathroom cleaned, please."

Esther narrows her eyes. "Mom would _never _make me do this."

That hurts, but Henry doesn't give her the satisfaction of a reaction. "Yeah? Well Mom isn't here, so I'm afraid you're going to have to."

"I wish you died instead of her!" A look of regret washes over Esther's face as soon as she says the words, but Henry doesn't give her a chance to say anything else before he steps out of the room and shuts the door behind him.

That stings, and he makes his way back to his bedroom, leaning against the door once her shuts it. He takes a deep breath, pinches the bridge of his nose and looks towards the picture of his late wife on his night stand. It's hard to keep himself calm as Esther's remark swirls around in his head.

_She's grieving_, he reminds himself. _We all are. She doesn't mean it. _

She doesn't mean it and he knows that she doesn't. It was a slip of the tongue; a mistake. Esther's fourteen, of course she doesn't mean it, she was just frustrated. Henry lets out a sigh. Nobody every told him that being a single father would be this hard. He honestly doesn't know how his wife survived, wrestling the kids day in and day out without complaint whilst he was off working.

He wishes that he'd thanked her more.

"Dad, I'm so sorry!" Esther's voice is muffled by the door as the handle jiggles. "I didn't mean it."

"Bathroom," is all he can manage to say without bursting into tears. "Now."

"Okay." She doesn't argue further, and Henry lets out a sigh of relief as her footsteps recede.

When he's finally gathered himself again, he leaves. Joe takes his early morning chores a lot better than Esther does. Henry's guess is that he heard everything, but Joe doesn't say anything as he's tasked with helping his sister clean. Henry wants to ask him just what he was doing this morning to get his sister so irate, but he decides that he really doesn't want to know.

He'll sort everything out after the reaping, he guesses. The pair of them are definitely going to be grounded, that's for sure.

Henry sets about making breakfast, calling the kids to eat before he wakes Sarah up. His youngest daughter doesn't seem to want to stay awake, leaning heavily into Henry as he attempts to feed her a spoonful of porridge. Her copper curls and blue eyes remind him so much of his wife as he stares down at her, and it takes all of his might to not to break down.

He won't in front of the kids.

Despite the early start, they somehow end up in a rush as the morning speeds on. Henry's father and older brother appear just before the reaping horn sounds, and there's hugs and everything as the kids rush to answer the door. Henry takes the slight reprieve to get himself ready, managing to get dressed before Joe bursts into the bedroom and demand that they leave before they're late.

Henry supposes that running his hands through his hair will have to do.

His older brother, Poplin, sits Sarah on his lap as he pushes along his wheelchair, and Joe talks his grandfather's ear off. Henry and Esther hang back, walking in silence. He knows that she wants to say something, but he doesn't prompt her. Wilhelmina always made a point of having the kids apologise themselves unprompted after an argument. Sometimes it would result in a few days of awkward silence at meal times, but eventually things sorted themselves out and the apologies were genuine.

"I didn't mean it," she says eventually as they near the square. He looks down at her to see her eyes welling up with tears. "I really didn't, Dad."

"I know, honey."

"I don't know why I said it. I was just... I was angry... but that's not really an excuse is it? I'm sorry I hurt you, Dad." She looks up at him. "Do you... do you think Mom would be mad at me?"

He shrugs. "I don't think she'd appreciate what you said, but I don't think that she'd blame you," Henry rests a hand on her shoulder in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. "I think she'd be proud that you're taking responsibility for what you said."

Esther smiles, wiping at her cheeks. "I hope so."

"You're still grounded, though," he says with a slight smile. "You're not getting out of it that easy."

"But—"

"Nope. I've forgiven you for your words, but you still woke everybody up at six in the morning," he says, and she pouts a little. "You can see your friends at school. You don't need to hang out with them this afternoon."

"I don't take the part back about you being mean," she jokes. "That stays true."

"Oh, I'm sure that I'm the worst dad in the district," He teases. "God forbid I discipline my own daughter."

The others are waiting for them when they finally reach the square. Poplin hands Sarah off to Esther, and Henry makes her promise to wait for him afterwards. He doesn't feel good leaving the pair of them alone behind the rope, but with his, Poplin's and their father's names in the bowl, Henry has no one to leave them with.

"Don't let go of her," he instructs. "Even if she wants to be put down, you hold her. Okay?"

"Yes. Keep a hold of her... I get it, Dad. We'll be fine."

He leaves them with a sinking feeling in his stomach, unable to shake the feeling that something bad is going to happen. He tries to mask his concern as they sign in, Joe practically jumping up and down beside him like the little ball of energy that he is. Thankfully, Poplin is able to keep him entertained by playing some clapping game as they wait.

Henry turns to his father. "Thanks for this morning, Dad. I'd be here in my pyjamas if not for you."

His elderly father waves a hand. "Don't be silly," he says. "Looking after those kids is never a problem."

Henry smiles, pulling his father into an awkward side hug as the square is packed to the brim with citizens. He doesn't know what he'd have done after Wilhelmina's death if it wasn't for his father and brother. They'd gone above and beyond for them, and he doesn't know how he's going to pay them back.

He tries to reign in his thoughts as the reaping starts, Mayor O'Connell taking to the stage first. Henry swears that he can recite the Treaty of Treason form memory by now, after hearing it for the past forty-six years. Their escort, Ysolda, isn't someone that he's seen before, but she seems nice enough. She's a lot younger, but not as ditzy. Sometimes watching the other escorts that 'grace' the stage every year is nothing short of embarrassing.

Henry doesn't know what they learn in the schools in the Capitol, but it doesn't seem like it's much.

The mayor's name being read out isn't something that he expected, but it snaps him back to reality as he watches her two girls climb the stage. He's never liked Mayor O'Connell much, doesn't really think that she's done much for the district, but he still doesn't approve of those around him who seem to find it funny that the woman is being forced to choose between one of her children to send into a death match.

He can't say that he expected her picking the youngest girl, either, and his heart aches for her as she turns to her mother with betrayal written all over her face. It's not a decision that Henry can say makes much sense, but he supposes that there must be a reason. Even so, the girl more than likely isn't getting out of the bloodbath alive.

Ysolda crosses over the stage to the male's bowl. He tenses, and he knows that the chance of his name being on that slip is minuscule but he still can't bare the thought that it just might be.

"Aaron Ellis."

And it's not his name, but it is his father's.

Henry feels like he's been punched in the gut as the name echoes out. He doesn't know when his legs start moving, but he's pushing Poplin towards the stage as their father ambles in front of them when his head stops spinning.

He's accepted it before he gets to the stairs. He's going into the Games. There's no way Poplin can go in, not with his legs. The peacekeepers don't even bother helping to lift his brother's chair up to the stage, instead leaving him at the bottom of the stairs, they're so certain of the choice.

His father recites his and Poplin's ages, and the pair of them make eye contact before he shakily states that he chooses Henry for the Games.

"It's okay, Dad," he says as the pair of them embrace before the peacekeepers pull him away. "I don't blame you."

He needs to say it now, before the chaos that will be the goodbyes. "I don't blame you," he repeats. "I don't."

He stares forward.

Henry knows that he doesn't really have a chance. But, if he doesn't make it out of the Games alive, at least he can take comfort in knowing that he'll be with Wilhelmina again.

He just hopes that his kids will be alright.

* * *

**Another 2AM update? I guess it's clear when I'm at my most productive. It probably also doesn't help that I have a big deadline coming up this Friday that I'm nowhere near close to finishing. Writing fanfiction seems to be how I procrastinate writing essays.**

**Please review; I'd love to know what you think about these characters! And, of course, if you haven't already, I'd love it if you could shoot a tribute or two my way!**

**The next chapter will be the District Three reaping with Joule and Ellis. I'm not sure when this will be uploaded since I have a pretty busy week with the aforementioned deadline on Friday, my birthday on Monday, and a few other deadlines at the end of next week, but I'm hoping that I'll be able to write a few hundred words here and there and have it out sooner than later. Fingers crossed!**

**Thank you to TakeTheCrown for Enya and Acaronar for Henry!**

**-Myths and me**


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